


The Home We Made

by Galactic_Dragoness



Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: Also I wanted to gift this to you and Moonstone but I changed my mind, Bad Ending, Because I thought that would be too cruel of me, Character Death, F/M, Original Character(s), Sad, Sad Ending, Snap if you're reading this congrats and I'm so so sorry, Violence, Why am I sorry?, You've been warned, my oc was named on tumblr!, sly cooper - Freeform, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galactic_Dragoness/pseuds/Galactic_Dragoness
Summary: Sometimes you just can't outrun your past. History has a funny way of repeating itself after all.OR: The most cursed idea I've ever had regarding Sly Cooper. If you hate sad endings, this fic is not for you.
Relationships: Bentley/Penelope (Sly Cooper), Sly Cooper/Carmelita Fox
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	The Home We Made

**Author's Note:**

> THIS. IS. YOUR. FINAL. WARNING!
> 
> This is REALLY sad. I mean it. The concept of this fic alone makes me depressed. Read at your own risk.
> 
> That being said, buckle up: it's gonna be one hell of a ride.
> 
> Based off the song "The Home We Made Part II" by Crywolf.

_Don't stand again._

_Don't stand again._

_And I thought maybe we could save ourselves._

_And I thought maybe we could save ourselves._

* * *

The young hybrid child sits at her tiny desk, coloring the different countries of Europe with her crayons. Her room is alight with the rays of the setting sun, the lavender and white walls painted with the shadows from outside. 

"Rose?"

The child's ginger ears perk up. "I'm here," she calls.

Footsteps approach the little girl's room, and the door is rapped three times.

"Have you finished packing?"

"Yes Mama."

"Very good. Why don't you come downstairs cariño? Aunt Penelope and Uncle Bentley will be here to pick you up in ten minutes."

"Ok Mama."

The woman behind the door walks away and Rose puts her work in a small school folder. She hops off her chair and crosses the room to her bed, where her backpack and suitcase rest. She stuffs her folder and crayons in her backpack, double checks the zippers, and slings the backpack on her. The little girl removes her baby blue suitcase from the bed and opens the door. 

She exits her room, closing the door and drags the suitcase down the hall. The hallway is lined with several pictures: a male raccoon and a female fox standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, the same couple dancing wearing a blue tuxedo and a red dress, the raccoon and fox with a pink hippo, a turtle in a wheelchair, and a blonde mouse, a baby foxcoon girl with ginger and black fur, the same girl now a few years older with the fox and raccoon at a backyard party, and the little girl in a school uniform.

Rose approaches the staircase, suitcase in hand. She takes a deep breath and lifts up the suitcase, slowly hobbling down the wooden stairs step by step.

"Rosie? Do you need help?"

The foxcoon looks down and sees her father, Sly Cooper standing at the foot of the staircase. He's wearing dark gray pants and a long sleeved blue shirt, the fur under and around his chin thick and grown out, almost like a beard. He gazes at his daughter softly through rich chocolate eyes.

Rose puffs out her chest. "I'm a big girl. I can do it."

He chuckles. "I know you are, but there's nothing wrong with asking for help."

"It's okay Papa. It's not that heavy. I can do it, watch!"

She continues down the stairs with her suitcase, breathing heavily. Sly watches with concern, ready to catch her if she stumbles.

Rose finally touches the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs, and drops the suitcase next to her. She looks up at her father beaming. "See? I did it!"

The raccoon grins. "You did! Good job kiddo! I think that deserves a cookie."

His daughter cocks her head. "What about Mama? She doesn't want me eating dessert before dinner too much."

He kneels down to her eye level, his eyes twinkling. "I'm sure Mama wouldn't mind if you just had one. It'll be our little secret okay?"

An impish grin spreads across Rose’s face and she giggles. Sly gets up and walks towards the kitchen, with his daughter in tow. He removes a ceramic jar from the top of the fridge and takes out two butter cookies, handing one to Rose.

Rose eagerly snatches the sweet from her father, and holds it up.

_“À ta santé_ , Papa!”

The raccoon smiles happily. “ _À ta santé,_ _ma chérie.”_

The little foxcoon quickly devours the butter treat and Sly chuckles. Once they finish their cookies, he replaces the cookie jar to its spot on the top of the fridge. 

“Now,” Sly says calmly. “I know you don’t need to be told this twice, but I want you to be on your best behavior for your Aunt and Uncle. You do everything that they tell you, understand?”

“Yes Papa.”

“Very good, they’ll be here in a few minutes. Have you finished your homework?”

“I’m saving my math homework for Uncle Bentley.”

Sly cocks his head. “Why?”

“Because he loves to help me with it! He’s really good with math, and he promised me that he would teach me more about aljee-aljay…”

“Algebra?”

Her eyes light up. “Yeah! I didn’t know there are math problems with letters in them! Isn’t that weird?”

Sly smiles warmly. “Believe me I know. But promise me you won’t ask Bentley to do your homework for you. If he does he may end up writing about quantum physics to try to get you extra credit.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Rose beams at her father. “Do you wanna see the map I’m coloring for social studies?”

“Of course I would!”

The little girl takes off her backpack and unzips it, pulling out the small school folder. She opens it and hands her father the colored-in map of Europe.

“This is really neat,” Sly muses. “Why is France purple?”

“Remember that picture of the pretty flowers you showed me, the purple ones in Provence? I was thinking of them when I colored France.”

“Yeah, you have one heck of a memory kiddo!”

Rose smiles, her eyes like stars. Sly hands her back the coloring map, but before Rose can take it she drops her folder from underneath her arm.

“Oh no!”

Pages fall out of the school folder on the floor of the kitchen. Rose quickly drops to her knees and scrambles to pick up the fallen papers.

“Here kiddo, let me help you.”

Sly gets down on the floor and helps his daughter pick up her school work. He scans the pages: a science quiz with an A, spelling classwork, language homework, and-

_Oh_.

_Oh dear._

Sly stops and stares at a piece of drawing paper. There is a doodle of a gray house, but it’s surrounded with orange and yellow and red scribbles, almost imitating a fire.

The parent looks at his child, concerned. “Sweetie, what is this?”

Rose looks up, and her eyes widen. “Oh...that’s from art class…”

“Is this...supposed to be our house…?”

The little girl bows her head in shame. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Rose says nothing, and tears start to prick from the corners of her eyes.

Sly’s blood goes cold and he approaches his daughter, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Jelly bean, you know you can tell me anything right?”

“I...I know...I just….I didn’t want you to get scared...”

“Scared?”

The girl nods. “A few nights ago I had a really bad dream.”

Sly nods. “Tell me about it.”

“I dreamed...I dreamed that our house was on fire. And I was outside and I couldn’t find you and Mama.”

“Oh, honey.”

“And then...and then I heard howling. Like a dog or a wolf. But it was really deep and scary, and I was scared because I couldn’t find you.”

“And when I woke up, I was really scared. But I didn’t want to make you scared too, so I didn’t tell you, because I wanted to be brave, like you and Mama.”

Rose hiccups, and tears stream down her face.

“Yesterday we had art class and Mrs. Berger wanted us to draw a bad dream that we had. She told us that if we draw our bad dreams, then they’ll be trapped on the paper, and they won’t come and get you. So I drew the house with the fire, but Mrs. Berger was really worried, she was going to call you soon to talk to you and Mama about it.”

Sly rubs his daughters back, consoling her. “That must have been really scary for you. I’m so sorry that you had that dream Rosie.”

The little foxcoon looks at her father. “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not! I understand that you wanted to be brave, but even the bravest people can get scared sometimes.”

She sniffles. “They do?”

“Yes! And when you’re scared of something, the best thing to do is to talk about it, because that way it seems less real. That’s what I’ve always told you and Mama.”

“O...Ok.”

Sly places the drawing on the kitchen counter next to him, face down. “I’m going to hold on to this for now, but next time when you have a bad dream talk to me about it ok? There’s no shame in waking me up at night if you’re alone and scared.”

He wipes the tears off his daughter’s face, and she hugs him tightly.

“I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too sweetie.”

Footsteps approach the kitchen from the stairwell, and Carmelita Fox enters the room. She’s wearing a dark red blouse and tight blue jeans.

“Sly have you seen my-”

She stops mid sentence and observes the scene before her. “Is everything alright?”

Sly pulls away from his child, and Rose rubs her eyes, now void of tears.

“Everything’s fine, honey. Rose and I were just talking about nightmares.”

Her face morphs into worry. “Did Rose have a bad dream? Nenita, you know you can talk to us about those things. I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”

Rose smiles warmly. “It’s ok Mama, I already told Papa. I promise next time I get a bad dream I’ll tell you.”

Carmelita looks at Sly, then back at her daughter, and nods slowly. “Good idea.”

Suddenly, the family hears the sound of a car pull up into the driveway outside. The adult vixen crosses the kitchen and looks out the window of their cottage.

“Bentley and Penelope are here. Their car just arrived.”

Sly grins. “I’ll get some tea ready. ‘Lita do we still have that coffee cake the Antiones baked?”

“We should, I’ll check the pantry. Rose, why don’t you open the door for your Aunt and Uncle?”

The little girl’s eyes light up. “I hope they brought me something!”

She picks up the rest of the papers on the floor and stuffs them in her bag, along with her school folder, and runs out of the room eager to greet the guests. Sly gets up and grabs the kettle from the stove, filling it with water from the sink.

Carmelita crosses the kitchen to the pantry and takes out the remaining coffee cake, placing it on the table.

“So what did I miss?”

The raccoon turns on the burner and puts the kettle on top of it. He walks over and embraces his wife from behind as she slices into the pastry.

“I’ll tell you about it later after dinner.” He kisses her cheek, his lips lingering on her soft facial fur.

He buries her face into her neck and she purrs. “Sly, we have guests.”

“What’s wrong with a little affection?” He asks, his voice muffled. “It’s not like we’re about to go at it right on the kitchen floor.”

He pulls away from her neck and she turns to face him.

“Unless that’s something you would like,” he breathes huskily. 

She smiles playfully and kisses him lightly on the lips. “Let’s wait until after they leave first. I don’t want to traumatize our child.”

His grin widens. “Anything for you.”

Their ears perk up to the sound of the front door opening, and a squeal of delight. The raccoon and fox couple pull away from each other as Bentley wheels into the kitchen with Penelope.

“Hey pal!”

The turtle offers him a large grin. “Good to see you, sitting duck.”

The brothers give each other a one-armed hug, and when they part Bentley turns to Carmelita.

“Carmelita, it’s great to see you too, how’s the consulting job going?”

“Boring,” she replies. “But as much as I miss being a detective, I will admit the pay and benefits are pretty good, especially now with Rose.”

The vixen turns to Penelope. “Long time no see, chica.”

“Likewise,” Penelope chirps. “Did you get the email about my computer anti-virus software?”

The four adults eventually sit down with hot tea and coffee cake, chatting away the evening. Rose shows off her classwork to her Aunt and Uncle, while Carmelita and Sly look on.

As the sun sinks beneath the horizon and the sky becomes a deep purple, Bentley checks his watch.

“Well, we’d love to stay and chat but I think it’s time we took Rose back to our house.”

The five of them get up from their chairs, and Sly and Carmelita clean off the table.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for Uncle Bentley and Aunt Penelope,” Carmelita says. “They’re being very nice to let you visit for the weekend.”

“I won’t Mama!”

The party walks to the front door, and Penelope takes Rose’s suitcase. Carmelita kneels down and gives her daughter a hug. 

“Be good, mija. We’ll pick you up on Sunday.”

She kisses her cheek, and the mother and child part. Sly kneels down and hugs his daughter. 

“We love you jelly bean. Remember that you can always call us if you want to, we’re not going anywhere.”

“I know, Papa.”

As they hug, Sly suddenly feels a chill go through his spine. His face remains cheerful but his eyes reflect his worry.

_Why did he feel so dreadful all of a sudden?_

_Why did he have such a bad feeling?_

“Papa?”

He snaps out of his trance. “Yes?”

“Are you going to let me go?”

He quickly pulls away from his daughter. “Sorry sweetie, I just zoned out for a second.”

His daughter looks at him, her head tilted ever so slightly in curiosity.

He clears his throat and stands up. “If there’s anything you need don’t hesitate to call us.”

Bentley nods. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her.”

Carmelita opens the front door, and they all walk outside. Penelope unlocks the trunk of the car and puts the suitcase inside. Bentley opens the car door for Rose, who eagerly climbs into the vehicle.

The turtle and mouse get in the car and start the engine. Before they leave, Bentley rolls down the window.

“Have fun you two! We’ll see you on Sunday,” the turtle calls out.

The dark green car backs out of the driveway, and Sly and Carmelita wave at their daughter from the front of the house. As the vehicle drives away down the street, another chill passes through Sly’s spine.

The raccoon frowns as his tail lashes restlessly. Once the car disappears from view, his wife turns to him.

“Ringtail, are you alright?”

He faces her. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

She cocks her brow. “You just seem...distracted.”

Sly sighs. “Let’s make dinner first, then I’ll tell you all about it.”

The couple walks inside their home and they close the door, but the former thief can’t help feeling uneasy.

* * *

_I hear your footsteps in the hallway_

_Your presence won't leave this place_

_This house has worlds inside it's walls_

* * *

Carmelita chops the onions on the wooden cutting board for their chicken basquaise.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Ringtail.”

Sly observes the sausages cooking on the cast iron pan, and while they cook he takes off Rose’s drawing from the kitchen counter.

He shows it to his wife. “Rose drew this the other day in art class.”

Carmelita puts down the knife and takes the drawing. She swallows nervously, and hands it back to Sly. “Is that supposed to be our house?”

The raccoon nods. “She had a bad dream about the house burning down.”

“Dios mio.”

She resumes chopping the onion, and Sly takes out several spices for seasoning the chicken meal. “Rose is a good kid, but the teacher still wants to see us about it.”

“That’s not surprising. Maybe we should filter her TV time? She could have seen something on the news that frightened her.”

“‘Lita, I don’t think it was from a TV show.”

She stops chopping and looks at her husband. “What do you suggest?”

“I was thinking maybe a child psychologist?”

Carmelita rears her head back in shock. “I think that’s overreacting, Rose doesn’t act out often and she seems happy. She only just had a bad dream”

Sly folds his arms. “I know...I just...what if she continues to have nightmares like this? I don’t want her to suffer in silence.”

“Well, I also don’t want to put a label on Rose either. She’s only eight years old! I don’t want her to think there’s something wrong with her if we take her to a shrink!”

“Carmelita, going to a professional about this sort of thing is completely normal. I thought we talked about this.”

The vixen sighs. “Let me…let’s think about it okay? If the nightmares continue then maybe we’ll consider getting help.”

Sly drops the potatoes in the boiling water. “Alright, I understand your hesitation. This is the first time Rose has had a nightmare this vivid. But let’s not rule it out, as parents we need to consider the best options for our child.”

They continue cooking their dinner, making small talk about the weather and the house and Carmelita’s new consulting job. But it’s when they sit down to eat that Carmelita changes the subject.

“What else are you not telling me?”

He freezes, mouth full of warm food, then swallows. “What do you mean?”

“When we said goodbye to Rose earlier today, you seemed restless.”

Sly chews on the inside of his cheek. “I just....I had a bad feeling.”

“About?”

The raccoon shrugs. “I’m not sure, I just felt uneasy. Like, a sense of something bad was going to happen.”

Carmelita studies him as if he were a math equation to be solved. “Sly, nothing bad’s going to happen to us. We’re safe, Rose is safe, no one in this town knows who we really are.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I know...I just had a passing feeling. It’s probably nothing.”

“Have you heard anything from Murray?”

“I talked to him a few days ago. He’s still at the car garage, and he’s doing quite well. He wants us to swing by so we can get an oil change on the car soon.”

“That’s thoughtful of him.”

The husband and wife continue to eat their dinner, and when they finish Carmelita takes both of their plates and puts them in the sink.

Sly gets up and embraces Carmelita from behind, trailing kisses down her neck.

“I think we should wait until our food digests Sly.”

He purrs and runs his hands around her lithe physique. “Can’t blame me for thinking of a fast way to burn calories.”

She turns around and kisses him deeply, but quickly pulls away and gags.

“I forgot we both taste like garlic. Let me go brush my teeth and change, why don’t you pick a movie from Netflix?”

He grins. “I’m looking forward to that new film with Mitchell Mongoose.”

She pecks his cheek, then leaves the kitchen and goes upstairs. Sly walks into their living room and sits on the couch, turning on the television.

When his wife returns, now wearing a tank top and some loose flannel pants, she climbs on the couch and curls next to her partner.

They start the movie, but about fifteen minutes in Carmelita hisses a curse.

Sly pauses the film. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to call Bentley and Penelope to check in on them and Rose. Let me grab my cell phone.”

She gets up and rushes back upstairs. Sly relaxes on the couch, but the furs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He gets up and looks out the window. Everything was quiet outside.

Almost...too quiet.

He flicks his ear in confusion, why did he feel so tense?

Carmelita quickly jogs down the stairs, but before Sly can acknowledge her she holds up a hand to silence him.

The phone is up to her ear, but her face expresses...doubt.

Sly faces the window again and squints harder. Sure enough, across the street to their house is a very dark van, almost invisible against the night,

“Sly?”

He turns. “‘Lita?”

“I’m...I’m not getting a signal...at all.”

Something in the pits of his stomach churns. They were at their house, and there was no signal?

“Try the landline.”

She dashes to the phone on the small table next to the couch and picks it up from the hook. But the receiver produces no sound.

“It’s dead.”

Sly’s blood turns to ice and he slips into defense mode. “We need to go upstairs, now-”

But as soon as the words leave his mouth, the front door blasts open, and the living room fills with smoke.

* * *

_In the back room, on the last night_

_I heard you crying for life_

_The smoke was pouring through the halls_

* * *

Sly quickly gets up from the living room floor and raises his fists, ready for a fight.

“CARMELITA! RUN!”

Pain suddenly erupts from the back of his head as he’s struck by an unknown assailant. Carmelita screams in a mix of fury and panic, and Sly falls to the ground again.

The raccoon rolls sideways and flips up, a masked intruder emerges from the smoke cover and approaches him with a bat.

Sly dodges a strike, then another, and punches him straight in the face, _hard_. He feels the plastic black mask crack from the blow, and the attacker crumbles.

He grabs a bat from the fallen assailant, and another masked figure tackles him from behind. They fall to the ground, and Sly struggles, but the second attacker was much stronger than the first. He pins him to the ground and a gloved fist connects with Sly’s jaw.

The attacker hits him again, and again. Sly spits out blood and the vision in his right eye becomes blurred. He hears a loud crack and the sound of Carmelita grunting in pain.

Before the masked attacker can land another punch, Sly gathers all his strength and blocks the blow with the steel bat. The attacker growls in pain, and Sly takes advantage of the moment of weakness and jabs the bat into the face of the second attacker. He stumbles backwards, holding his face, and Sly gets up and raises the bat, ready to strike him.

Abruptly, someone behind him grabs the bat and twists it at an angle, forcing Sly to let go. He turns to face a third assailant, a very large masked man, and raises his fists for a fight. But two more assailants emerge from the smoke and grab Sly, pinning him face down to the floor. He struggles against the intruders, but then he hears a clicking sound next to his ear.

“No more struggling, Cooper.”

The color drains from his face. He didn’t recognize the voice, but they _knew his name_.

Sly hears another shriek and a cry, along with the sound of a fist connecting with flesh.

“CARMELITA!”

“Shut up Cooper!”

Another strike is heard, and someone falls to the floor.

**_“Hijos de putas! Me cago en tu madre!!”_ **

“Shut up bitch!”

The smoke clears from the room, but Sly is facing away from the commotion. Someone kicks something, and Carmelita cries out in pain.

Sly begins to writhe violently. **“Get your filthy hands off my wife! You fuckers! I’ll kill you!”**

A blunt object whacks Sly across the cheek. “I said shut up Cooper. Or I’ll shoot the woman.”

The raccoon slams his mouth shut, grinding his teeth. A few seconds pass in silence, save for grunting and groaning.

“Get him up.”

The intruders holding Sly down forcibly lift him from the floor and pin him against the wall. He faces a large man wearing a black plastic mask in a zipped leather jacket bursting at the seams, cargo pants, and steel-toed boots.

The large man, presumably the leader, gets in Sly’s face. He reeks of copper and cigarettes, and he removes his mask.

The leader reveals himself to be a very large timber wolf. His eyes are an icy blue hue, and a long scar runs from his cheek down to his neck. His fur is gray and rough, and his ears are covered in nicks.

A vicious grin spreads across his menacing face. “Gotta say, Cooper. You put up one hell of a fight. I’m impressed.”

Sly growls ferociously, baring his canines. The wolf continues.

“You are Sylvester William Cooper, yes? Or as you were once called: Sly Cooper? The world famous thief?”

Sly says nothing, and the wolf cracks his neck.

“Answer me, trash rat.”

Sly spits in his face. The wolf blinks, and slowly wipes off the saliva from his face. He sighs and shakes his head.

“Bring me the wife.”

Behind him, two more masked figures drag a bloody and bruised Carmelita to the wolf. They pin her against the wall next to Sly.

Sly’s eyes widen in fear as the wolf approaches his vixen.

“Hello there, sexy.”

Carmelita's face contorts into rage. “Go fuck yourself, dog.”

The wolf chuckles. “Former Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox, I’ve heard a lot about you. But nothing could’ve prepared me for how much of a bombshell you are.”

The wolf strokes her cheek, and Sly thrashes against the ones restraining him.

“Gotta admit Cooper, you know how to pick em’. Such a shame that she won’t make it out alive. I almost don’t want to do this.”

“What do you want,” Sly snarls.

He turns to face the raccoon. “I want to get paid, that’s all. Just doing my job. Lucky for me a lot of people want you dead, and one particular person offered us a lot of money for you and your wife’s contract.”

Sly feels something in his chest sink like a stone. 

_No_.

_No. Not again._

_Please, anything but this._

“But this person also wanted us to see to it that we roughen up you two pretty good. And if there’s one thing I enjoy more than money, it’s hurting people. Really helps me with my anger issues.”

He pauses. “So, I will ask you again: are you Sly Cooper and Carmelita Fox?”

A few seconds pass in a fragile silence, and Sly speaks, his voice hoarse.

“Yes.”

The wolf offers a malicious smile, all teeth. “Excellent.”

He turns to a masked figure with a handgun behind him. “Put one in his leg.”

Before Sly can blink, there’s a sound of gunfire, and pain explodes in his left knee. He cries out in anguish and hangs his head.

**_“SLY!!!”_ **

One of the mask figures restraining Carmelita smacks her across the face. “I told you to shut up.”

Sly gasps in pain, and the timber wolf tilts up the raccoons head.

“Don’t black out on me now Cooper. I have one more question for you.”

“Please…” Sly gasps. “Please don’t do this.”

“Where is your cane, rat?”

“Wha-what?”

“Your golden cane. The Cooper cane. The family heirloom. _Where is it_?”

“Please...don’t…”

“Tell me or I blow her pretty little head open.”

A masked figure walks over to Carmelita and cocks the gun, pointing it right between her eyes.

“The bedroom,” he gasps. “Under the bed. There’s a secret compartment, a button in the drawer of the nightstand opens it.”

The wolf chuckles. “Good man. Charlie, Delta, go upstairs and get the cane.”

Two more figures emerge from behind the wolf, counting eight in total, and stomp up the stairs. The wolf strides back over to Carmelita and examines her carefully.

“They wanted trophies from the contract...so…”

He grabs Carmelita’s Interpol medal and rips it off her neck. The gray mammal examines the golden medal carefully.

“This’ll have to do.”

He faces Carmelita. “Sorry sweetheart. You’re exactly my type, but a contract is a contract.”

She hisses furiously, and the wolf smiles. He walks back to Sly.

“You know when I was younger I heard a lot about your thefts, Cooper.” The wolf says casually, examining his claws. “They were clever, they were amazing, they were devious. I was a huge fan of your work, I wanted to be a thief too…”

He looks up, his blue eyes almost illuminating. “But let’s just say I really wasn’t cut out for stealing. It was..boring. But killing on the other hand, killing is an art.”

Sly says nothing, the gears in his mind rapidly turning. The wolf continues.

“I suppose it’s a bit late to ask for an autograph, is it?”

He laughs, and the two men return down the stairs with the golden cane in hand, along with a book under the first one’s arm.

Sly’s eyes widen. “No, not the book. Please, I beg you, not the book.”

The timber wolf cocks his head as the two masked men hand him the items.

“Boss,” one of them barks. “There’s something you should see.”

The masked figure takes out a small framed picture from his jacket and hands it to the wolf.

“They have a kid.”

The wolf’s eyes widen as he stares at the photograph of the little girl. He shows the picture to the captive raccoon and fox, who begin to sweat.

“Cute kid,” he mumbles. “Mind telling me where she is?”

“Not here,” Sly gasps. His vision gets dark around the edges of his eyes, and he starts to feel dizzy from blood loss.

He takes a step closer to the former thief. “Where?”

_“Not. Here.”_

The wolf looks at the photograph again. “They didn’t mention anything about a kid…”

The timber wolf thinks for a moment, then shrugs, and tosses the framed picture behind him, which clatters on the wooden floor.

“What the customer doesn’t know won’t hurt them.”

Relief spreads through Sly like a flood. _They weren’t going to go after Rose._

“Now,” the wolf ponders. “What’s so special about the book?”

He holds up the Thievius Raccoonus to Sly.

“Family heirloom...not yours…”

The wolf frowns, and opens the book, skimming the pages.

“Seems boring. Customer didn’t say anything about a book either…”

He closes the book and tosses it on the floor. He twirls the golden cane in his hands.

“Now this...this is an heirloom. Is this real gold? Wait, don’t answer that, if it is I might keep it for myself!”

“Please,” Sly moans. “You...you want money, right? I...I have money. Lots of gold...and jewels...and money.”

The wolf narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You’re rich?”

Sly nods. “I...I can offer you a lot more...than what your boss offered. Please...you name it...and it’s yours. Just...let us go...we have a child. Please...I’m begging you….”

He leans in very close to Sly’s face. “That would be pretty nice…”

“But if I went back on a contract, that would look really bad for my business, and my image. Besides, why would I pass up on the opportunity to take out Sly Cooper the master thief? That’s like saying no to a second helping of dessert!”

Sly feels his heart sink.

The wolf laughs coldly. “Isn’t this hilarious? Sly Cooper, world famous criminal, begging for his life by trying to bribe me? That’s way out of character Sly, even for you.”

He hands the cane back to the masked man.

“Bravo, Foxtrot, drop the raccoon and get the gasoline.”

The men holding Sly against the wall drop him, and Sly crumples to the ground in pain, the blood from his wound coating his clothes. Carmelita tries to break free from her captors, but one of them punches her the gut and she doubles over, gasping in pain.

The timber wolf approaches Carmelita and pulls out a knife from his cargo pants.

“Once again, I apologize for this. But you know what they say, ‘in for a penny-’"

He thrust the knife into Carmelita’s stomach.

“‘-in for a pound.'”

Sly screams in horror as the wolf pulls out the knife. Carmelita cries out in pain, and the two masked men release her as she collapses.

The raccoon crawls over to his injured wife. “‘Lita...‘Lita...stay with me.

The timber wolf howls in delight at the scene. He slams his boot against Sly’s back, pinning him to the floor.

The masked intruders re-enter the house with gasoline cans. They pour the liquid throughout the house, in every room. When they’re finished they report back to their leader and give him a box of matches.

“Well done, boys. All of you head back to the van and warm it up.”

They bark in agreement and march out of the house through the front door. The wolf releases his boot from Sly’s lower back, turns around and saunters away to the door.

Sly crawls over to Carmelita, gasping and choking. He holds her in his arms and applies pressure to the stab wound.

“Wait,” he calls after the wolf.

The wolf stops and turns around.

“Did Clockwerk send you?”

He cocks his head, puzzled. “You mean that bucket of bolts from years ago? Nah, he’s long dead. I will tell you this: our customer was one hundred percent organic.”

Sly doesn’t know how to feel about the wolf’s statement.

The timber wolf lights a match from the match box. “It’s been a pleasure Sly Cooper and Carmelita Fox. I’ll make sure to bring some flowers to the funeral.”

He drops the match on the gasoline-soaked floors, and rushes out of the house into the night. 

Fire bursts out from the floor and spreads across the house like a racehorse. Sly cradles Carmelita in his arms, blood running down her mouth.

“...Ringtail.”

“I’m here,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

The temperature begins to rise and the flames expand, covering the room. Dark smoke starts to fill the house.

Tears slide down his cheeks as he looks around the burning house. The home that they renovated and painted and decorated. The home where they raised their beautiful daughter. The home that they had made.

“Sly…”

“‘Lita, I’m here.”

“We failed Sly...I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head. “It’s not our fault.”

The flames surround them and the beams of the house creak and groan. The smoke fills Sly’s lungs as he coughs and chokes.

“Sly...I love you…”

He holds her tighter. “I know...me too…”

His life flashes before his eyes. His parents, the orphanage, Bentley and Murray, the heists, the adventures, Carmelita, Rose, everything.

_I just wish I could have seen her grow up._

_“Sly.”_

He looks at Carmelita, the light in her eyes fading. 

“Carmelita, I’ll be right here. No matter what happens.”

His vision gets darker and darker, and the flames lick his fur, scorching it.

_I’m coming Mom and Dad. I’m coming home._

And the burning house collapses on them.

* * *

_“Breaking news this morning on channel 6: a deadly house fire in the French countryside claims two victims. Interpol is currently investigating the scene, and it is believed that the fire was a result of an arson attack. The victims remain unnamed, but our sources tell us that they were two married ex-Interpol agents. We’ll have more information at 11:00._

* * *

_And I thought maybe we could save ourselves_

_But they shot us down_

_They shot us down_

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I accept constructive criticism. Emphasis on the word constructive.


End file.
